


Full Stop

by orphan_account



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Breakup Fic, M/M, Mutual Pining, fic of a fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 07:45:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9062920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: They both saw it coming.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Fanfic for another fanfic, PunkHazard's [Maximum Tempo.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7784377)
> 
> In an AU where Genji rules an empire with his brother, and Lúcio plays a gig in Hanamura.

It would never have worked between them.

Lúcio had known it from the beginning, from the minute he’d read the invitation to perform in Japan and checked the venue and the host on reflex. The yakuza are Japanese but their trade is international; organized crime, trafficking, and legitimate fronts to illegitimate businesses are all no strangers to him nor his home in Brazil. He’d weighed his options carefully before booking a train ticket from the last official stop on his tour, just to check it out - and _appear_ to consider the offer, if nothing else.

The warning signs had still been fresh in his mind the second he’d set foot in Hanamura, too, and had all his research validated within the first thirty seconds; the sleek black car and the security detail that were as equally there for him as they were for the man who’d personally come to greet him, he had taken in stride. It was, after all, what he’d expected.

And the instant he’d shaken hands with Genji Shimada, finding him exactly what he had (and what he hadn’t) thought he would be - _that_ had to have been the biggest red flag of all. Genji moved and acted with the assertion of a man that knew he was untouchable, power and privilege ever at his fingertips. And yet - just as easily he could play his pretenses, he could set them aside, if only for a moment. He could turn a smile on him that was as practiced as it was truly warm, regard him with a sharp and sunny charm and a blatant acknowledgment of his attraction to him that never once dared to be controlling.

Genji Shimada had always been incredibly, unmistakably dangerous. And he had made no attempt to hide it.

Knowing this, Lúcio - against all previous inclination - had found himself satisfied at first to entertain the possibility, and then to wholeheartedly agree (on his own terms), to perform; knowing this, Lúcio had put his best effort into the event, made friendly with his host even outside mere politeness and found the other man good, even pleasant, company.

And Genji had noticed. Genji had gone out of his way to accomodate him - banter with him, share drinks with him, allow him to see who he was and what he stood for (and inadvertently what he wanted to stand for), and Lúcio—

Lúcio hadn’t turned away.

Why?

They stand apart from each other in the crowded expanse of an airport. The concert, a dinner for two, a movie and a train ride to the beach, among other things, are all behind them. Lúcio knows now just how much - _how many_ things can happen between two people in such a short amount of time. He’s only been in Hanamura all of ten days, only a week longer than he’d originally planned, but it feels like he's burning time that he doesn't have. The clock is ticking down.

Whatever he thinks of the thing that’s about to end between them, it doesn’t change the fact that he still can’t turn away.

The pain in Genji’s eyes is genuine. His jaw flexes, minutely, before he offers Lúcio one last smile - practiced, charming, a touch too plaintive to come off as easy. “Goodbye.”

Short and simple.

It certainly had been, until now.

It’s too late to ask but they both know the answer: it would never have worked between them. Lúcio had to have known, even as he’d invited a yakuza, the right arm of a criminal empire, to dinner; Genji had to have known, even as he’d accepted the invitation to eat with a revolutionary, a freedom fighter that stood in antithesis to his life and his family’s self-interests.

But Lúcio stares as if across a vast distance and feels like he’s looking at a mirror. Just when had they - when had _he_ \- started wishing this could have ended differently?

Genji looks away first, throat bobbing. He doesn’t want to repeat himself.

This is it, then.

“Goodbye,” Lúcio hears himself say, and feels the exact moment they shatter from each other - just like they’d both known would happen.


End file.
